Rocky Road
by MissDomaYuset
Summary: <html><head></head>A certain golden eyed man works quietly at a Ice Cream Parlor when he gets the most adorable customer he's ever had the pleasure of meeting. AU  Rating will change</html>
1. Rocky Road

**Hurraaaay!**

**Ice Cream!**

_**YAY!**_

**Okay, enough of that. I came up this little ball of adorableness over AIM, and a good friend encouraged me to write it out.**

**Also never fear, PFL will be updated today as well.**

**I own none of the orginal!**

There was a quaint little ice cream parlor shop nestled between a hair salon and a pawn shop, modeled to look like something that came out of the sixties what with all the black and white checkered floor that's been polished to an impossible shine and the bright red bar stools the lined the marble counter. There was only one employee on staff, which was just as well as the day was quite slow.

It wasn't surprising though, as it wasn't a hot summer's day or the weekend. It was actually quite chilly outside, you would have to ether have a severe need for comfort food or be severely obsessed with having your soft served frozen treat to want to walk in at all. Even so, the shop remained open, just in case customers were to come about.

The lone employee with golden eyes wiped down the counter for what felt like the hundredth time, when he heard the faint ringing sound of the door opening. Looked up, he at first see's nothing.

Perhaps… Perhaps it was just the wind? He looks back down to continue his _important_ work when he spots a tuff of red hair peeking from the edge of the counter. "Ah…" the man leans over to have a better look, to see a little red headed boy, perhaps no more the five staring intently at the ice-cream displays. Smiling softly, he tried to get the boys attention. "Why hello there."

The child spun on his heel and smiled brightly back at the man, startling him slightly with the intensity of the boys brilliant blue eyes. He almost wanted to take a picture with his phone, but knew very well that would not only appear creepy, but likely illegal without the consent of the parent. "Hi!" the boy chirped.

Parents…

"Where your mom kid?" he asked. "Does she know you're here?"

The boy pointed at the door. "She's getting her hair cut!" he declared proudly. He returned his attention to the ice cream display, trying to decide what he wanted to eat. "She says not to go off on my own, but you're here so I'm not alone am I? Besides, I was getting boooored… Oh!" he looks back up the man. "My name is Hanna, what's yours?"

The man blinked. That was an odd name for a boy… "My name is Ryouta," he answered. "And maybe you should go back to your mom before she…"

"Ryan Two?" Hanna ran back to the counter and started to climb the bar stool like a little monkey. "That's a silly name!"

Laughing slightly the man tried to correct the boy. "No, it's pronounced Rye…You…Ta. And your mother might be worried."

The boy nestled into the stool comfortably, swinging his legs. "Right…Yat…Roo…" the boy paused and before the golden eyed man could repeat the correct pronunciation, he pointed authoritively him. "Carl!"

"…Okay. That's my name." This kid was adorable enough to get away with changing his name. But even so, there was still the matter of trying to persuade the child back to the hair salon before his mother figures out what was happening. He decided to go with bribing Hanna. "You must have been bored waiting for you mom- would you like some ice cream to take with you while you wait for mom to finish up?"

"Can't I have it here?" the boy whined, pouting slightly. Ryouta made note of the childs freckles and how they were spotting all the right places. It just looked _adorable._ "Besides, you're my new best friend Charles!'

"I thought my name is Carl?"

"Now it's Henny!"

Ryouta sighed, but not out of annoyance. "Alright, but don't go blaming me if you mother gets upset." He was happy, very happy for the company. Now being put into such a good mood, he decided to give the child the promised ice cream, even thought it would no longer serve as the intended purpose of a bribe. Take out a small cone he looked over at the staring kid. "So what's your flavor?"

The boy mulled this over for what seemed like only a second. "Rocky Road!" he cheered as he spun around in the barstool. Ryouta continued to smile as the boy then sprung into a little song about ice cream, and just how _awesome_ it was that he was getting some.

Ryouta felt that song was enough to earn the child two scoops instead of just one.

He handed the child the ice cream, earning a bright smile in return. "Wow! Thank you!" he said happily. Ryou dealt with plenty of children before, but none that smiled as warmly as this one. He was secretly starting to hope the mother was getting a _very long_ haircut.

But sadly no.

A woman, who so obviously was Hanna's mother, what with the strong resemblance in the red hair and freshly styled hair came in looking absolutely panicked- until she see's Hanna. Her expression melted away into relief- and thankfully not _anger_ like Ryou feared.

"Hanna Falk Cross!" she said in a scolding tone as she approached the boy who looked as if she had just caught him standing over a broken vase. "I told you not to wander- I swear, I turn my back for… oh sweetie, did this man give you ice cream?"

Hanna nodded. "It's okay, I'm gonna pay him!" he declared as he started to fish into his pockets.

Both Ryouta and his mother shot each other quizzical glances. Ryouta didn't expect the boy to have any money, and apparently by judging by the woman's expression, neither did she. The boy eventually pulled out a crumbled up white piece of paper with pointed bits sticking out at odd angles. "Mommy, hold this!" He gave his baffled mother his ice cream as he fixes and smoothes out the paper before presenting it to the nice man.

A paper crane.

"I made it myself!" he boasted. "And it's magic, 'cause if you make a thousand of them, you get a wish. So each little crane has to have a little magic in it right?"

"That's… incredible." Ryouta played along, holding up the crane, looking as though he was very, very impressed, like it _was_ made of real magic. "It was a pleasure doing business with you Mr. Cross."

Hanna just beamed as he wandered over to the door so he could leave with his mother, who paused for a moment and whispered that she will pay him with real money, but Ryouta declined her offer and said the ice cream was free for today. She returned to her son's side, pulling him out the door, mouthing 'thank you'. Hanna shouted "Good bye Freddy! See you later!" as he carefully balancing his double scoops of ice cream.

Now being left alone, the young man displayed the crane up onto a shelf filled with little antique trinkets that served as the parlors decor before returning to work.


	2. Apple Crisp

**So yes, this is chapter two. There will more chapters to come after this as well.**

**I was floored by the responses the first chapter got- you guys really like it? Just... wow. Flattered. Honestly.**

**You people are truly awesome.**

Ryouta winced as he heard the shattering of glass. He excused himself from the register, leaving behind a rather flustered looking customer to see what mess his latest hire had made this time. He was a kid really, bouncing the job between his college classes. He was trying hard to forgive him but…

There was something about that blonde boy. Something that he just didn't like.

"Everything okay back there, Alois?" He asked as he slid into the storage room. His shoe crushes an already shattered Sunday glass. He sighed and looked at the boy, who was all beat red with embarrassment. "Are you alright?"

"Fine, boss man!" The boy waved his arms open, gesturing to his entire scrawny self as proof of the _fineness_. "Just _fine_!"

"Are you sure?" Ryouta reached for the broom that was tucked away in the corner of the storage room. "That's a lot of broken glass… " he paused slightly at the exasperated sigh that came from his new-hire. "Why don't you go down to the cash register and help the customers? I'll clean up here."

"Boss, aren't you going to punish me? Or make me clean this mess?" the new-hire complained, with his hands on his hips (in an oh-so-very diva fashion).

Ryouta stared at him, trying to figure the boy out silently. "The glasses will just be taken out of your paycheck. And you're not exactly careful. You'll end up cutting yourself if you try to clean up this glass yourself."

The boy huffed slightly and squeezed past his job to do as he was asked.

Sighing, Ryouta swept up the glass carefully, and made a mental note to mop here as well as make sure all the shards got cleaned up after the morning rush. He then returned to the front counter, and waved the next customer over absentmindedly.

"Hey there! Are you Darrel?" Ryouta blinked in a confused manner and looked the man over a bit more closely. The customer was a man of average height with curly brown hair, thick accountant-like glasses, and a winning smile. He elaborates with, "I think my son met you last week."

"My name is Ryouta, sorry," smiling apologetically, he holds up a scooper. "What can I get you?"

The man leaned in and squinted at him suspiciously. Ryouta leaned back slightly; a little confused by this man's behavior. "…Sir?"

"You… have yellow eyes…" he said in a serious tone.

"Actually they're just light bro-"

"Yep, you're Darrel," The man said, crossing his arms. "You're an exact likeness." He seemed so stubborn about his deduction, so sure of his deduction that the degree of it left the other man baffled.

"But I'm not…"

"_Exact likeness!"_

At a loss of what to say next, the 'yellow'-eyed man decided to go with it. "Okay, but exact likeness of what exactly?"

The man rummaged through his pockets, pulling out a folded up piece of paper. Instantly, Ryouta was smacked in the face with a strong sense of déjà vu.

The man unwrinkled the paper to reveal a crayon drawing of blobs of colors, with a vague shape of what seemed like a human with orange dots for eyes, standing next to another vague figure of a much smaller person with swirly red spirals for red hair. This was just like…

He looked the man over again, this time a bit more carefully. His tuffs of curly hair, those faint spots of freckles, that personality brimming with excitement and glee... There were striking similarities between him and that little ginger boy that came in last week. " You're Hanna's father aren't you?" Ryouta chuckled.

The man beamed proudly, re-folding the paper back into his pocket. "Sure am! My son's taken quite the liking to you, and so did my wife." The brunet paused and looked back at the other man with a look dangerously close to incredulousness. "I had to see you for myself before I brought my son back here," his gaze darkened, "just to make sure."

"…Make sure of what?"

"That you're not some handsome playboy trying to woe my wife of course!" The man's, former seriousness melted away as he laughed for a full three seconds, after which he noticed the expression on Ryouta's face and settled down. "Okay, bad joke. Actually I was just on my way home from work and thought I'd just drop by."

Strange man.

"Hey boss man! The line is growing if you hadn't noticed!" Alois called over at Ryouta, elbow deep in the bucket of Apple Crisp, scrapping up the remains of the low-quantity flavor.

And so it was- threatening to spill out into the street even. Hanna's father shrugged, embarrassed. "Sorry about keeping you- just give me a pint of Mint Chocolate and I'll get out of your hair." Nodding, Ryouta quickly started fill out the order. Mr. Cross watched him, and added, "And I'll drag my boy here tomorrow too. God knows he rather eat this stuff outside then in his room playing video games like a normal kid."

"That sounds great!" Ryouta responded handing the pint over. "That'd be 6.37"

"Can't I pay with magic?"

"…"

"Joking! Geez man," he laughed, handing over a ten. "You need to get laid."

"I…ah…"

There was a pause, as Mr. Cross's words hung in the air uncomfortably. Sheepishly, he handed the man a ten dollar bill. "And this is why the wife doesn't let me go out unsupervised," the brunet said apologetically before quickly adding, "keep the change!" He trots out of the establishment, leaving the yellow-eyed worker alone with a long line with rather impatient looking customers.


End file.
